Author's note: This chapter is very, very gory.
At first, there was pain. Pain in her head and pain in her body. The pain in her head was more localized, centered around the right side of her forehead. It throbbed in time with her pulse. Although she was not yet aware of it, there was an ugly red wound that blood slipped from.
Then there were sounds. The first sound she was aware of was a harsh panting. It took her a few minutes to recognize it as her own breathing. There were also the more distant sounds: a car door slamming: a woman's voice, mocking and threatening, but not addressed to her.
Then, last, came sight. Starling's eyes fluttered open and observed the starred windshield and the ceiling of the cruiser above her. Her head lay limply against the headrest of the cruiser. The world seemed far away, and came in beats. Beat beat beat, and then everything would spin into a gray mist for a while. It wasn't long, and then her vision would resolve again into the inside of the cruiser. Her hands lay limply where they had tangled in the steering wheel. She tried to move them and found that it hurt to do so.
She heard the screech of the dented door opening and moved her eyes to look. Her head stubbornly refused to move. It was simply too heavy.
A black-fatigued figure stood at the driver's side door and leaned in. Lisa Starling smiled. HRT had come for her. They had found her. Then she saw the name DIXON sewn on the name tag, and frowned. That was wrong. She was wearing Dixon's jacket herself; Dixon had been in the building. Or had he? She could not remember. Vaguely she remembered a building exploding, and that made her think of Lima for some reason and feel sad.
She swam into the gray again, then was brought back by the feel of light hands on her head. She opened her eyes to see Susana Alvarez Lecter leaning into the wrecked cruiser, examining the wound on her forehead with critical eyes. Then there were arms under her shoulders. She could feel herself being pulled from the cruiser. As her body was pulled free, she could hear the heels of her boots dragging on the asphalt of the deserted country road.
Then there was the sound of a truck door moving up on pneumatics. She was dragged into the back of a Suburban. She could feel Susana's hands on her belt, removing her gun and handcuffs. The gun disappeared into the pocket of Susana's BDU jacket. The handcuffs were put on her wrists.
Wait, no, what are you doing? She thought. The door closed. She heard the sound of someone turning in the back seat and saw DeGraff's face looking over her. There was a diamond-mark pattern on his cheek where his face had smacked into the grille separating the front and back seats.
Then the truck started, and everything went black for a while.
When Starling came back to the world, she was no longer in the truck. She was lying on a bed. Her arms were secured over her to the bedposts. She was no longer wearing the fatigues; as she raised her head blearily and stared down at herself she saw she was wearing a white cocktail dress. White pumps were on her feet. She laid her head back and groaned.
The door opened, and Susana Alvarez Lecter came in. She, too, was wearing a dress. In one hand she carried a black leather doctor's bag. She smiled pleasantly at her captive and sat down on the bed next to her.
"You're awake," she said. "You had me worried. I thought you had a fractured skull. Looks like just a concussion, though." Her voice was brisk and nursey.
Lisa groaned again and winced as Susana began to remove the bandage covering her forehead and changed it.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.
"Changing your bandage," Susana said promptly. "Whatever did you think, Cousin Lisa?"
"Why?"
"Because the old one is so terribly bloody and you need to look good for dinner."
Susana removed a pill bottle from her bag and shook out a white pill. "Here you go, Cousin Lisa."
Lisa closed her mouth and turned her face away. There was no way she was taking a pill from Susana Alvarez Lecter.
Susana's lips pursed. "Cousin Lisa, please. It's just Vicodin, and it'll make your head feel ever so much better."
Lisa shook her head and pressed her lips together in a thin line.
"Open your mouth, please," Susana said in a displeased tone, "or I'll open it myself. And I'll ram it down your gullet with a stick if I have to, but that would be so much more unpleasant. "
Lisa swallowed and thought. Susana was definitely capable of that, but still, she was loath.
"Lisa Lee Starling," Susana said peremptorily. Her free hand rummaged in the bag. Blearily, Lisa thought of her mother.
Lisa sighed and opened her mouth. Susana dropped the pill inside and allowed her cousin to sit up. Ever the pleasant hostess, she let Lisa sip from a glass of water, then inspected the inside of her mouth to ensure she'd swallowed the pill.
"Dinner will be in about half an hour," Susana said calmly. "I'll take you down to the dining room and set you up in your chair. I'm afraid you can only have a few glasses of wine."
Susana unlocked the handcuffs and then locked them again behind Starling's back. She helped her considerately to her feet and walked her out of the bedroom and down the hall.
"Where am I?" Starling croaked.
"We are enjoying the hospitality of Agent DeGraff's home," Susana said delicately. "But he's a bit indisposed, so I'll be the hostess tonight. You need only sit back and relax."
"Lima," Lisa groaned. "You killed Lima."
"Agent Lima and I had a disagreement, that's true. But it's all in the past now."
Lisa started and tried to dig in her heels as Susana marched her down to the stairs. Vague memories of hanging arose. She felt the sharp point of a blade dig into her back.
"Please, cousin Lisa. I know you never learned about proper ladylike manners, but it's rude to misbehave when you're a guest."
The house was quite large and majestic. Lisa looked around in surprise at it. DeGraff had to have some kind of money to afford a place like this.
The dinner table was set for three. Two places were empty. At one place, Agent Peter DeGraff sat in a computer office chair. He wore a tuxedo and a very frightened expression. Contrasting against the black sleeves of his tuxedo jacket were the several strands of duct tape that Susana had used to tie him to the chair. He watched the two women enter with a look of trepidation.
Susana guided her captive to the seat next to DeGraff's and sat her down. She squatted beside her to bind Lisa's ankles and waist to the chair. Only once this had been done did she remove the handcuffs. They went onto the table by Lisa's plate, next to her fork.
"Would either of you care for wine?" she asked elegantly. "Or perhaps some brandy? Agent DeGraff has some wonderful Grand Marnier."
DeGraff shook his head. Fear-sweat covered his face.
Starling did not reply. Susana nodded and took her wine glass, filling it one-third full with Chateau d'Yquem. She filled her own and sampled it, nodding.
"d'Yquem is wonderful wine. From your birth year, Cousin Lisa. Our birth year, actually. We share the same birthday, isn't that amusing?"
Starling noticed there was an extra wine glass at each place setting. For some reason, this made her heart begin to pound. As the pain in her head began to drop in intensity, her thoughts came more clearly and she began to realize what trouble she was in.
"What are you doing? Why are you keeping me here?" she demanded.
"What am I doing? Why, making dinner, of course. Look around you. If you ever want to be in Behavioral Sciences permanently, you ought to notice these things, Cousin Lisa."
Near the table stood a large chrome cart. Lisa noticed that there was a bag atop it emblazoned with the logo of a Baltimore medical supplies company. She trembled.
"Susana, let me go now. It'll go easier on you once they catch you."
"You mean if they catch me," Susana said diplomatically but firmly, "and not until after dinner."
She crossed over to the cart and took the bag. From it, she removed a plastic tube and a long, sharp needle. Starling recoiled. She set the bag down in front of Lisa, but out of her reach.
"Now this is going to hurt a bit," Susana said, "so I'll just relieve you of temptation." Her fingers fastened down on Lisa's right wrist with inhuman strength. She took the handcuffs and fastened them onto her quickly. Then, again the elegant hostess, she carefully wiped a spot on Lisa's chest with an alcohol wipe. She removed the needle from its plastic carrier.
"Now take a deep breath," she urged, and pressed the needle into Lisa's chest firmly. Lisa gasped in pain. It felt like being stabbed. Well, you are being stabbed, her mind informed her unnecessarily. Before too much blood could flow from the wound, Susana carefully introduced the tube into the needle and threaded it in. Lisa stared down at her chest in horror: the needle and tube went in just above her breast, but she could feel the tube moving inside her body. It was the most bizarre sort of invasion she had ever experienced. With practice, Susana slipped the needle free, leaving only the tube in place. Dark red blood began to flow from the short tube's end. Expertly, Susana filled the three wine glasses and then capped off the end of the tube.
"That's a cardiac catheter, Cousin Lisa," she said by way of explanation. "The tube in there has been inserted into the vena cava. The end is actually inside your heart. If I so cared to, I could remove your entire blood supply, right out of this tube."
Lisa stared at her, stricken with shock and horror. It felt like a nail driven into her chest, even though the needle was gone. Her mouth worked.
"Ah, but I don't plan on killing you. But do keep it in mind. I do so despise rudeness, and when I hear rudeness I tend to do things I may regret later." Susana favored her with a smile showing perfect white teeth."
Susana grasped DeGraff's wine glass. "They say blood is thicker than water," she said meditatively. "Do you think that's so?" She held it to his lips. DeGraff closed his eyes and drank. When Susana took the glass from his lips, he shuddered.
When it came Starling's turn, she did not try to fight her cousin. The taste of her own blood on her tongue was salty and warm. Her gorge rose as a corner of her mind whispered to her what she was drinking.
Don't think about it, she answered that voice, and swallowed. She took in a long, sobbing breath and lowered her head.
Susana chuckled. "Why, Cousin Lisa," she said. "Losing three glasses of blood shouldn't hurt you any. Please."
Lisa fought the urge to sob in front of the monster. "You're…insane," she whispered, shuddering.
"Nonsense." Susana raised her own glass and swirled it under his nose as if it was the fine wine she had poured next to it. She held up the glass to the candles and studied the color. Then, she drank it down. With a silk napkin, she carefully wiped her cousin's arterial blood from her lips.
Starling had to be careful. If she antagonized her cousin, she had little doubt that Susana would kill her. The image of Susana's perfectly manicured thumbnail appeared in her mind, working under the cap of the tube and flicking it off. She envisioned the FBI agents perusing her gray, drained body.
"Susana, I don't know what you're planning," she began, "but it won't work."
Susana raised a perfectly shaped brow. "Au contraire," she said. "Agent DeGraff lives about sixty miles away from where you learned the perils of following too close. Really, Cousin Lisa. I'd think you knew more about me by now. And where are your manners? You have yet to compliment Agent DeGraff on his home."
"It's lovely, sir," Starling said quickly to mollify her cousin.
"Thank you," he said in a choked and terrified voice.
"Of course, I'm afraid you'll not own one like it. You'd never afford it on an FBI agent's salary," Susana observed. "While you were sleeping, Agent DeGraff and I had some wonderful conversations. It turns out that he had been taking money from drug smugglers while he was in the field offices….," She chuckled. "And the fact that you pursued me even though I had your tormentor in tow suggests that you would not stoop to such a level."
Lisa Starling, who in her brief FBI career had never accepted a bribe, turned and glared at the man seated next to her.
"You know," she said to DeGraff, "I don't know what your problem is. I don't know if it's just me or with women in general. But every time you cut me down, every time you reminded me that I wasn't a real profiler, I didn't do anything. So why was it?"
DeGraff, who realized this was most likely going to be his deathbed confession, thought past his fear and sighed.
"I've seen some horrible things," he said. "You know. Really, really terrible things. Women raped and murdered. Kids murdered. Women shouldn't see such things."
Susana pulled her cart closer. Under where the medical-supply bag had sat, there was a single-burner cooker and a container of LP gas. She reached down around DeGraff and carefully removed his cummerbund. Under it, the flesh of his stomach rose hairy and undisturbed. The edge of his shirt was ragged where Susana had carefully cut it off. She pushed his chair back.
"Yes," Susana said thoughtfully. "In our discussions, Agent DeGraff owned up to his disapproval of women in law enforcement." In her other hand, she held a 9mm pistol which she aimed at DeGraff for a moment. Then she booted the clip out. It fell with a clatter to the floor. Susana placed the pistol on the table between him and Lisa.
She lifted a scalpel from the tray and held it in her hand for a moment. Lisa stared at the shiny point hypnotically. Her attention was torn: part of her said to reach for the Glock between her knife and DeGraff's fork. The red indicator was on, indicating that there was a bullet in the chamber. Susana had removed the clip, so there would be only one, but a shot was a shot. Another part of her could not be torn from the scalpel, because she knew what was going to happen could not be good.
DeGraff whimpered. "Please," he said. "I take it back."
"You needn't and can't take back what you truly think, Agent DeGraff," Susana said smoothly. "It is what you think, even if it'll get you in trouble at this table. Now what was it you said to me?"
DeGraff whined, an animal sound of pure mortal terror.
"I remember," Susana sounded pleased. "You said, 'Women don't belong in law enforcement. They don't have the guts for it.'"
The scalpel danced delicately down, and then slit a thin line across DeGraff's belly. Although Susana had fed her cousin a Vicodin before dinner, DeGraff received no such pharmaceutical relief. He strained against the duct tape holding him to the chair.
Susana cut another cross incision and then donned a pair of latex gloves. Carefully, she removed the great gray ropy mass of DeGraff's intestines from the cross-shaped cut in his midsection. She removed three long tubes and cut them free. DeGraff moaned and threw himself about in the chair.
Susana dipped each piece of intestine in a milk sauce and then carefully breaded them. She put her bloody gloves in DeGraff's coat pocket. She transferred the portions of intestine to the cooker and lit the flame with an audible whump. She added olive oil to the cooker and swiftly fried the pieces in the cooker.
"I do hope something fried appeals to your Southern palate," Susana said thoughtfully to her cousin.
Lisa was pale and weak. Her jaw was loose as she watched the horror going on in front of her. She was helpless to do or say a thing, even though she was not sure what she would have done if she was not handcuffed.
Susana carefully placed a loop of fried intestine on each person's plate. She leaned over her cousin and removed her handcuffs. She did take the gun and move it over to DeGraff's other side. Lisa tried not to show her disappointment. If she could lunge over and grab it, she might tip the chair over, but she could still fire from the ground.
"Agent DeGraff, would you say grace?" Susana asked politely.
DeGraff moaned in pain.
"Umm…Heavenly Father, we thank you for this food we are about to receive…," he mumbled. "Please don't kill me and please let Starling go. In his name, amen."
Susana shrugged. "Well done. Now please, eat. " She lifted her fork to her own lips and then stopped.
"Neither of you are eating," she said, seemingly troubled. "Agent DeGraff, I do understand that your hands are out of commission, and so that's all right. But Cousin Lisa, I declare, have you no manners?" Her thumb made a flicking gesture.
Lisa stared at her cousin for some time, knowing full well what Susana meant to flick. She cut a piece carefully from the tube on her plate and lifted her fork to her lips. The meat was not bad, although she knew what it was. With a great act of will, she placed her fork in her mouth and chewed. Something gritty slid from the open end of the tube in her mouth. It occurred to her that she was eating something DeGraff had already eaten and nausea pressed her stomach hard.
Don't throw up. If you throw up, she'll flick the tube and that's it. Don't throw up.
She repeated it as a mantra in her mind. It helped. Don't throw up. Don't throw up. Chew. Chew. Swallow.
Susan held DeGraff's fork to his lips. He took it the way a horse does, by pulling off the piece with his lips. He chewed it and swallowed. He closed his eyes and shook.
"It's excellent," he said in a dusty and toneless voice.
"I'm glad you like it," Susana said, the attentive hostess. "Of course, you'll only be able to enjoy the taste."
Susana rose then and prepared another helping for them all. This time, it came with a side of baby carrots coated in sweet butter. Lisa Starling ate those, her eyes and mind firmly closed. Susana chuckled.
"I see you eat vegetables well," she observed. "I was always terrible at eating them as a child. You see, my father tended to spoil me, and rarely forced me to eat anything I didn't want to."
"Too bad you didn't inherit that from him," Lisa Starling managed as she forced down her second helping of DeGraff's guts.
Susana shrugged. "I said he didn't force me. He did occasionally mandate that others share his cuisine."
DeGraff moved in his chair. Both women looked over at him. Lisa had a look of sick concern. Susana seemed mildly amused. His hands trembled.
"Seizures," Susana said mildly. "He won't last much longer."
"You," Lisa said, taking in a long, stabbing breath, "are insane."
Susana shook her head. "Nonsense, dear cousin," she said calmly. "I simply do to rude people what should have been done in the first place."
Lisa moved suddenly, testing her restraints. Suddenly fury filled her, and in a black rage she screamed.
"You are insane! You can't just kill people whenever you like!"
Susana tilted her head and looked interested. "Why not?"
"Because you can't. Was Lima rude?"
"Yes, he was. I asked him to address me properly. He refused."
"You can't just kill people for that!" Lisa grabbed up her knife without thinking. It was quite dull, and she had little opportunity to use it bound to the chair as she was. Her eyes burned with fury.
"Ralph Lima was a good man. He was my friend. And you tortured and killed him."
"He was rude and used profanity," Susana said. Lisa's eyes remained riveted on her cousin's. She dared not look over at the pistol on the other side of the dying DeGraff.
"So what's next? Are you going to kill me?"
"I hadn't planned on it," Susana said delicately, and ate another forkful.
Just them, two things happened. The first was that DeGraff died. His death was quiet and simple. After the loss of blood from his wounded gut, he simply sighed, shifted in his chair, and his last breath streamed from his lungs.
The second was a distant tinkle of glass. Both women looked around. Lisa smiled bitterly.
"That's probably HRT," she said venomously. "You'd better be prepared to go down."
Susana produced a silver-plated pistol much like the one lying next to DeGraff's corpse. "I'm prepared, cousin." She smiled and put it down by her plate.
The sound was not repeated. Susana looked over at the dead DeGraff.
"I'll just take out the trash," she said, and rose. DeGraff's chair was on wheels, and it was a simple matter for her to wheel the corpse into the kitchen. As she rolled the corpse away, a long, gray line of intestines trailed behind him. It caught on a wheel and Susana bumped it over.
Lisa turned away, feeling sick.
In the hallway appeared a figure. Lisa's eyes widened.
Ardelia Mapp crept into the dining room, her pistol at the ready. She raised a finger to her lips to shhh Lisa.
As Susana returned from the kitchen, Ardelia covered the distance between the two in seconds. Susana was quick to react, but Ardelia was between her and the table. Ardelia struck her with the muzzle of her automatic. Susana fell and landed on the floor. Ardelia was on her in a trice, striking her again with the muzzle of the pistol and cuffing her quickly.
In a few seconds, it was all over. It dawned on Lisa that a small-town police chief had done what a trained HRT squad could not: put the cuffs on Susana Alvarez Lecter.
"I'm tied to the chair," she said. "Let me out. We'll bring her in."
Ardelia looked over at her and grinned savagely. Her face was the face of the warhag. There was an ugly, bitter expression on it.
"Bring her in? Not a chance, kiddo. This little bitch owes me some payback."
She hauled Susana to her feet and bent her at the waist. Susana's face slammed into the table. The china on the table jumped with a clatter. Ardelia's lips split back in a caveman-like grin of triumph.
"I have waited so long to do this," she said, and brought the muzzle down on Susana's face a third time.
"So long," Ardelia repeated. "For Roland…for my career…for your goddam father and what he did to Clarice." She grabbed one of Susana's fingers and bent it back three-quarters of the way. Susana grimaced but did not make a sound.
"You'll scream," Ardelia grinned savagely. "You'll scream until your throat bursts." Her voice was gritty and lined with hate. "And you'll beg for death. But you know what? You won't get it. Not until I am satisfied."
She grabbed a candle off the table with her free hand and held the flickering yellow flame to Susana's palm. By bending her finger back, she was able to keep the heel of Susana's hand in the flame. Susana let out a choked off, pained noise. When Ardelia finally released her, there was a bubbling, blackened patch the size of a quarter on the heel of her hand.
Lisa watched this with horror and closed her eyes. If Ardelia had wanted to kill Susana, she could have understood that. She had a grievance, after all. But Lisa's mind quailed at the idea of torturing her to death. Of tormenting a handcuffed captive with unbridled sadistic zeal. No one deserved to be tortured to death. Not even Susana Alvarez Lecter.
She reached across the table for the pistol. It felt good and heavy in her hand. Lisa closed her eyes.
I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot. I'm an idiot.
But she was not an idiot. She was the guardian of the lambs.
Lisa took a deep breath, extended her arms, and aimed the pistol at Ardelia.
"Ardelia," she said calmly, "no."
Ardelia glanced up. She took in the pistol aimed at her and pulled Susana up to shield her.
"Are you crazy?" she asked. "Do you know what this woman has done?"
"And we'll take her in and let the courts deal with it," Lisa said calmly. "No torture. That's not how things go."
Ardelia's face twisted into a mask of hate. "You're not gonna shoot me, kiddo," she said. She released her grip on the struggling Susana to grab her own pistol. "You're not going to do it. You don't have the guts."
That's what DeGraff said, Lisa thought. He was wrong and so are you.
"Put the gun down," Lisa said.
"No. I will not be cheated out of this by some kid fresh out of the Academy," Ardelia sneered. Her own gun came to bear on Lisa.
The report of the gun filled the small room. Lisa screamed.
Ardelia Mapp fell to the floor, Lisa put down the pistol, its slide held open, and looked around for a sharp blade. Susana tried to stand up.
"Don't," Lisa warned. She saw the scalpel still on the table and grabbed it, hurriedly cutting the ropes tying her to the chair. Once she was free, she grabbed the clip from where it lay on the floor and put it into the pistol. She walked around the table to where Susana sat and Ardelia lay.
"Take these cuffs off me," Susana said tiredly.
The muzzle of the pistol did not move off Susana's face. "Like hell I will," Lisa Starling said. "You're under arrest. I'm taking you in."
"I just want my bag," Susana said. "Please. My hand hurts. You've got the gun."
Lisa grabbed the pistol sitting by Susana's plate and tried to put it in her waistband before discovering she had no waistband to put it in. She settled for putting the gun far away. Her eyes moved back and forth between Susana and the bag.
"Put my hands in front of me, if you prefer. All I want is the gauze pad and antibiotic out of my bag."
Lisa thought about it for a moment and picked up the bag. Susana nodded.
"If you fuck with me I'll shoot you dead," Lisa threatened.
"I'm not going to fight you," Susana said. "You've got the gun. I'm not dumb. But finish the job."
Lisa tilted her head, unconsciously mimicking her cousin.
"Finish the job?" she asked.
"On Mapp. I can hear her breathing. Kill her."
Lisa shook her head. "No. I'm not a cold-blooded killer."
She put the bag in front of Susana and then looked her over. Her hands trembled. The thought of setting this monster free terrified her. But Susana did not seem to want to fight her.
Her eyes bulging, her tongue dry, and part of her mind screaming at her, Lisa Starling placed the key to the handcuffs in her cousin's uninjured hand. She backed off two paces and kept the pistol aimed right at her cousin's nose.
"Thank you, Lisa," Susana Alvarez said tiredly, and set about bandaging her hand. When she was done, Lisa waggled the muzzle of the pistol.
"Cuffs back on. And throw me the key."
Susana closed the cuffs around her wrists and threw the key at her cousin. Lisa ignored it and let it fall, satisfied that she seemed to be cooperating. She saw a phone in the kitchen and moved towards it.
"I'm going to call the police now," she told Susana. "If you move you'll have a few new holes."
Susana raised her manacled hands in a peaceful gesture.
Just then, Ardelia Mapp sat up with a roar of insensate rage. Her pistol came to bear on Starling. Lisa's pistol moved automatically from the handcuffed suspect to the armed one.
The reports of the two pistols sounded like one. Miraculously, Susana Alvarez Lecter was not hit, despite being in the crossfire. Ardelia Mapp's brains splattered on the wall behind her in a great hammersmash of blood and gore. She fell to the floor and did not move. The tiny hole in her forehead did not seem to add up to the great hole out the back of her head.
Something smacked Lisa Starling like the hand of a god. It felt as if a sledgehammer had hit her in the ribcage. She stared wide-eyed at her cousin.
From the entry wound in her chest, there fell one, two, three drops of blood.
Don't drop the pistol, her mind gibbered in an echo to her Academy firearms instructor. Don't ever drop your firearm.
Lisa's knees unhinged. Her cousin rose slowly and picked up the doctor's bag. She walked primly over to where the key had fallen and removed her manacles, frowning at them as if they were jewelry she did not approve of.
Lisa fell over onto her back and gasped for air. She could feel a great heaviness in her chest. There was no pain. She saw her cousin's face far above her, as a pallbearer staring down into her grave. She tried to raise the pistol to point it at her, but her arm refused to obey her mind's dictates. As Susana removed something from the bag, Lisa tried to move the gun again.
She could see her cousin's face, but everything around it was swiftly being covered by a black vortex. It started at the corners of her vision and then expanded inwards. She could see her cousin's lips moving, but could not focus on what she was saying. Then the vortex expanded further, blotting out even Susana's face, and covered everything, and dragged Lisa Starling down into the dark depths.